


will wait for you (whenever you need)

by andorjyny



Series: cait's desperate attempt to let these kids heal 'verse [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: "borrowing" from legends and also shakespeare?, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avoidance issues, Character Study, F/M, Its also space holiday season, Light Angst, Rebelcaptain Secret Santa, generally not being well adapted adults and learning to heal, get these kids some therapy, no betas but lots of alph-jk i can't even make that joke, what is plot we don't know her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28369866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andorjyny/pseuds/andorjyny
Summary: "It doesn't count if you're already planning your defeat."Jyn's lost a lot in her short life. She needs some time to trust that she might get to keep something for once.
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso
Series: cait's desperate attempt to let these kids heal 'verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2158386
Comments: 32
Kudos: 62





	will wait for you (whenever you need)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leaiorganas (marcasite)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marcasite/gifts).



> My gift to @leaiorganas for rebelcaptain secret santa! That was such a great prompt, and I hope you enjoy! The plot is... thin. But it's a character study so!
> 
> title is from ariana grande's off the table because im lazyyy and couldn't think of anything smdh.

**YAVIN IV - 0 ABY**

Jyn wonders if all the pieces of the Death Star, this sibling built rather than birthed, will burn up in atmo or come chasing after her, play tag with her on the ground of this humid little moon. 

Like the sister she might have had, all those years ago on the dark wet beaches of Lah'mu, if things had been different. Looking back, Jyn knows that her parents had always been careful - the shots Lyra gave herself every year, the pill bottle nestled in Galen's sock drawer. At eight, Jyn hadn't understood what she would learn at twelve. Would mourn at sixteen.

Perhaps Lyra had always known that Galen Erso could only ever father weapons, but she’d still birthed Jyn in that prison cell. At twenty-one, Jyn searches the lines in her palms for something other than scar tissue. Her mother’s revenge.

"Nice night," Cassian Andor says from behind her as he stumbles to sit beside her on the damp, cool ground. Jyn watches him from the corner of her eye, notes the stiffness in his shoulders, the trembling of his right hand. "You cut your hair."

She tucks an errant strand behind her ear, smiles despite herself. He's a spy, he notices things; it is nothing. And anyway the change is stark - it is just long enough to tie back and falls just below her chin, blunt and light. It bounces when she moves. "It was time. Think there was a bird-moth nesting in it."

"Didn't know they let you keep pets in prison."

She thinks of the grumpy old tooka that kept coming around for scraps during mealtimes. She'd heard some of the other prisoners call her all kinds of vaguely affectionate names, but Jyn had known better. If you give a cat a name and you feed it, you're making a commitment.

She'd kept her distance. Wobani was no place for commitment.

"In prison, the pets keep you," she says, meeting his gaze before looking back up through the canopy, black against the purpling sky. "So what's the plan?"

She feels his eyes linger on her face and silently curses her cheeks for the flush rising in them. Stupid human body with its stupid human hormones. 

Jyn understands wants and needs quite well. Living rough is a strict tutor. She knows what it means for her pulse to quicken around a pretty face, for heat to build under her skin. She's not immune to attraction, to the heightened awareness of another sentient that it brings.

It's just not usually this complicated. Not since Maia and Hadder. Lifetimes ago.

"You tell me." He passes her a datapad, fingers brushing over hers. She thinks she feels the calluses on his trigger finger, and the thought sticks with her until she turns on the datapad and blinks at the bright blue screen.

"Passcode?"

His lips curve up at the ends. "You were Saw Gerrera's slicer, right?" When she meets his eyes again she thinks they look warmer than they probably should, but it's getting darker by the minute so she might be mistaken. 

"Well, yeah."

Of course he knows that. He read it in her file. It occurs to her that he’s probably the one who _wrote_ her file. It's more than a bit strange to think that he knows her so much better than she knows him.

She doesn't know where he's from or how old he is. What his parents did, why their six year old son had to go to war. Where they went. 

There's so much to him.

He leans in, nudges her shoulder gently. "I think you can figure it out, Sergeant."

It takes her eleven standard secs. "I hope you just made it easy, or I'm gonna need to talk to someone in security."

He smiles faintly.

The briefing leaves her breathless.

Partners. They get to be partners. She's not sure what Cassian had to do to get General Draven on board with it, and when she brings it up, Cassian gives her a half smile that she finds entirely too charming. "What makes you think it wasn't Draven's idea?" he asks. "Life Day _is_ coming up."

"Well I'm not getting him anything."

He chuckles. Out of the corner of her eye, she can tell he’s looking at her through his (quite frankly, unfairly long) lashes. “Jyn,” he murmurs, soft and far too tender for her comfort. He’s closer than he was a moment before. 

Her heart thumps loudly in her ears. Surely he has to hear it. He must have when they shared the stale air of that Scarif lift, must have seen her eyes dip to his lips. Surely he’d known in that moment that she would have been - well maybe not satisfied, per say, but content enough to die with him.

And now they’re here, lit up under the Death Star light, and she doesn’t know what she wants. But he’s so close, and he’s leaning in, and -

Not this. Not right now. She’s not ready for it even if she wants to be. Ready for him and everything he can be for her.

Saw’s words echo in her head. _So what is it that you want, Jyn?_

Before she can even think of an answer, Cassian pulls back. “Alright.” He looks at the sky. “It’s alright.” 

To her ears, it sounds like he’s saying _we’ll get there in our own time_.

"When is Life Day?" she asks. "We didn't exactly keep track on Wobani."

"It's in a few weeks. You have time," he says, gaze falling onto her wrists, to the skin pink from bacta. She'd been in cuffs when they'd met, her skin rubbed raw from the cold metal. The marks they'd left are gone. Just like new.

"What do you want for Life Day?" he asks, eyes glued to her wrists.

"What do _you_ want?"

"I asked first." He huffs. "My blaster."

"Ah well, that's too bad. I can filch you one from the quartermaster."

"You stole the first one!" Cassian grins even as he shakes his head. "Next year, Jyn. Next year."

/ /

**THILA BASE - 1 ABY**

She might be his partner, but Kay still gets to co-pilot, so Jyn has to sit in the passenger hold. Occasionally Bodhi joins them when he's not hauling cargo; on those missions Cassian lets him pilot, but Kay always keeps his seat. The damn droid takes way too much pleasure in _reminding_ her of her place on the ship, but Jyn doesn’t really mind, not when Cassian turns in his seat and shoots her that half smile of his, warm like sweet Corellian whiskey, as she buckles herself in. It’s moments like these that she wants to tell him so many things: how happy he makes her feel just by keeping her in his life, how grateful she is to have purpose again. How she wants to know everything there is to know about him, how afraid she is to overwhelm him with her eagerness.

There’s the other things she wants, things that seem inevitable but always just out of reach. Things she’s halfway certain he wants too when he looks at her the way he is now. Dark eyes soft and focused on her, the slight parting of his dry lips.

Kay says something to get Cassian’s attention; the moment passes. It’s for the best, she thinks.

"Ready?" he asks as he turns around again to catch her eye. She smiles.

Lift off always makes her giddy. As they climb into the sky, her stomach drops, ears pop. She sits on the edge of her seat, avoids staring out through the transparisteel as they leave atmo. Her nerves are not about fear - she completely trusts Cassian and Kay to get them safely where they need to go. Leaving Thila feels nothing like fleeing Jedha or Eadu or Scarif, but in a way she thinks a part of her will always be in those moments, praying to the Force or her mother that she and her team will be able to take the next chance, that their chances are not yet spent. 

Cassian is such a good pilot that she barely notices the ship entering hyperspace until he sits down beside her. 

"Head's up. Kay's in a mood," he says in an undertone, digging through his backpack. "He didn't get an oil bath yesterday like he was supposed to, and now his joints are bothering him."

"Seriously?" Jyn groans. "He's gonna be a pfassking terror." 

"The techs were overbooked." Cassian apparently finds what he was looking for. "Dinner time," he says as he holds out two ration bars, one in blue wrapping and one in orange. She plucks the orange out of his hand with a grin. But he's gotten to know how she teases, and she snickers as he cuts her off.

"Don't start."

"So the quartermaster just happened to give you the good flavors _again_." She tears the top of the package.

"There aren't _any_ good flavors, Jyn."

"Okay, so Mindala gave you the less bad ones then." Cassian runs a hand through his hair. "Like they do for every mission."

"Maybe they think you aren't getting enough protein," he says before he takes a bite of the blue.

She feels like a teenager again, or maybe for the first time, teasing some sweetheart whose attention she wants. Maia had always been too sweet to tease, and their relationship hadn't really been like that anyway. Jyn hadn't much liked Codo's affections. And Hadder… well, he'd been her first in so many ways (first love, first time, first chance to be _normal_ ) but he'd gone and died, and that was that.

At sixteen Jyn had thought she'd found everything she ever wanted. And maybe she had - a girl of sixteen has very little in common with a woman of twenty-three. She wonders what she'll think of herself at thirty (assuming she makes it to thirty). Will she think fondly of this floaty joy inside her chest? Will she look back in regret? Embarrassment?

She doesn't trust that she'll get to feel like this forever. The best things she's ever had have never stayed around. Cassian tries harder than anyone ever has before, but in the end staying isn't about _trying_. Lyra had tried, Hadder had tried, Saw had tried. Whenever she gets too close to Cassian, she remembers she is an Erso. 

And Ersos are made to suffer.

"Jyn?"

As she meets his concerned gaze, Jyn thinks about who Cassian might have been at twenty-three, at sixteen. A rebel, a pilot, a Fulcrum operative… but what about the man, the boy? Had he ever even flushed at some cute sentient's flirtations? Has he always been so lonely? When had he found Kay?

Would they have had this same connection if they'd met back then? Would he have even wanted a friend like her?

"What were you like as a teenager?" she asks without meaning to. His brows raise slightly. She can tell he's confused, a little discomfited by the change in her. "Sorry, nevermin-"

"I was angry," he says. She fiddles with her ration bar packaging, turns her eyes down to her hands, short nails, the discoloration on her left thumb. Sometimes she finds it easier to listen, to hear, when she doesn't have to focus on keeping eye contact. And if he is going to share a piece of himself with her, she wants to hear it well. "I was hurting and afraid. My older sister Mari and I wanted to stay on Fest, with the resistance there. But it was like, just kids throwing rocks at bucketheads and tanks. Most of the rebel leadership was in the prison camps or dead."

"Kids can do a lot of damage," she mumbles as she twists the ration packaging in her fingers. She hears him chuckle over the crinkling.

"As I'm sure you know," he says. "What was it? 'One fighter with a sharp stick and-'"

"'And nothing left to lose can take the day.'" Jyn finally looks up at him and meets his eyes. He sighs.

"We got recruited by a cell with more resources. She joined up with General Draven before I did, actually." Jyn raises a brow. "What?" he asks, the corners of his lips quirking.

"I just assumed you were always intel."

Cassian shrugs. "I was fifteen. My training… well, it was off the books. The only reason Draven took me on was because I had been running messages for the rebels back on Fest.”

"Her name was Mari?" The name feels wrong on her tongue, blasphemous and crude. But Cassian just nods. She doesn’t need to ask about his sister’s fate. She’d looked through his rucksack for holos or mementos back on Yavin IV when they first met and found nothing personal. She knows he’s the last of his family. He wears it differently than she does - he doesn’t have her tendency towards avoidance for one - but he doesn’t need to say that he lost everyone for her to know how he walks with his ghosts in everything he does.

Jyn reaches for his hand. "I'm so glad you found Kaytoo."

Cassian cracks a smile and squeezes her hand. "More like he found me."

She wants to know more but something holds her back. He's shared a lot of himself today. She won't scare him off in her haste. 

And even if he's the one who wrote her file, even if he knows more of her history than anyone else, she feels like sharing something of herself that he wouldn't write in a briefing.

"I wanted a sister when I was little. Someone to chase around the farm."

He sighs. "You were lonely."

"Yeah, sometimes. When I was with Saw, there was… a girl. Maia. She died on a mission and left me her gloves. And I lost them." She glares at her hands. "I forgot she died, when we were on Jedha. I asked about her. Staven and Codo too, but I saw Maia die. I don't know how I forgot."

She does though. Jyn thinks of the hatch, the dark place she'd locked away all the things that tried to hurt her, all the people who left. She'd forgotten on purpose.

She feels fingers brushing across her eyelids and down her cheek. His thumb wipes tears - oh, karking fuck, she's been crying - away from the corner of her lip, and it takes so much effort to not nuzzle into his palm. She can't help but open her eyes and look up at him through her wet lashes, to see him seeing her in this moment.

Jyn's seen him don his spy mask, that neutrality just shy of blank as not to draw attention. She's seen him happy, features softened under Yavin's canopy. She'll never forget the way he looked at her in that darkened lift, so earnest and raw and young. But now Cassian stares at his thumb with a distant sort of wariness.

 _Damn your mewling knotty-pated innards_ she curses herself. _Damn_ her for her cowardice.

"Sorry," she says. He blinks and his lips thin as he pulls his hand back.

"Don't be. I'm the one who should apologize.” He stands up. “Get some rest. We’ll be on Taris in a few hours.”

/ /

**TARISIAN UPPER LEVEL**

If Jyn didn’t already know the history of Taris, she would never think that it was once the victim of a brutal bombardment that killed almost all Tarisian life. In the millennia since then, Tarisians have resettled their homeworld and built it back up.

“Bit smoggier than Coruscant,” she says in an undertone as she falls into step with Cassian on a footbridge between blocks. 

“Poor air quality tonight.” He seems to be in full on herding mode, at least to her eyes. Jyn knows that he hides his tells carefully, and to the organics around them he looks as relaxed as any other Upworlder. Dressed in a fitted suit made of fine gray Tomoun wool (tailored, because of course it is) and dark crosh-hide boots no doubt worth hundreds of credits, he looks like a businessman wealthy enough to have an apartment in this district and on at least a few other worlds, but that is not remarkable amongst the elite of the Upper Levels. Rhys Cardell has money but is not moneyed. Nouveau riche, but understated enough to appease the old money in high society. He’s tamed his thick hair and trimmed his beard, and she thinks she can detect a whiff of something spicy and sweet on him.

He has his hand on her lower back. She can feel the warm pressure of his palm through the Gherlian sei-weave cape she’d borrowed from a friend of Leia’s. She is posing as his personal assistant - emphasis on _personal_ \- Paila Thorne. She tries not to snuggle up to Cassian even though it might suit their covers. Rhys and Paila are trying to keep their affair hidden and just barely managing it; Jyn highly doubts that any sentient could look at her and not see how much of a moof-milker she is for this man.

The city is beautiful but cold. Taris might not be as segregated as it was in its heyday before the bombardment, but there are still hardly any non-human sentients in this district. They walk through the gilded doors of an upscale club, and Jyn tries to hold back a sigh. There’s a dueling ring, and not just any - according to the shining plaque hanging on the wall, this is apparently the final resting place of notorious death match dueler Bendak Starkiller (although she’s not sure how that’s possible but she’s never had a knack for history). And as much as she wants to, she absolutely can’t enter the competition. Paila Thorne is no brawler; but Jyn is. 

And Cassian knows it. She sees him bite back a smile. “Maybe next trip we’ll stay for the show,” he says in an accent crisper than her own. 

“Of course, sir.”

Cassian snatches two glasses of sparkling wine from a passing waiter droid and opens their tab. He really is fantastic at this - she barely can tell how much he wants to recruit the little bugger away from its life of servitude. 

She leans in close as he passes her a glass. “Alright, next trip.”

For a moment, his eyes crinkle fondly. He taps his glass to hers, holds her gaze and sips. She’s so charmed she has a hard time not tossing her drink back. “Let’s find a table.”

He leads her through the cantina, through the heavy blanket of tabac and cigarra smoke. Past the jazz band and a Twi’lek dancer presses against a Human man with barely concealed anger in her eyes. Most of the patrons are dressed nicer than she is, which makes sense for who Paila is supposed to be - they glitter and gleam in their jewels and hand-dyed shimmersilk, some more understated than others. This is a war economy, after all. 

Cassian finds them a booth in a dimly lit corner. He brushes his hand over the table as he gestures for her to sit. 

This is their spot. At some point tonight, their contact will stumble drunkenly on her old university friend Rhys, offer to buy them a round and pass on some coded message to the now- _former_ Senator Pamlo. 

"Nice place, isn't it?" Cassian says in his posh accent. "Even if it isn't Theed."

She thinks this cantina is one of the last places Cassian wants to be in, fancy drinks aside. Bourgeois, prejudiced clientele, cloying music… at least the dueling ring would be interesting. "And it _isn't_ Theed," she replies in the manner of a mistress who intends to become a wife.

Draven toyed around with marrying Paila to Rhys. Married couples are useful covers but Cassian has spent years building this persona to be a bit of a cad. 

_"He's exactly the sort who would come on to an attractive employee and set them up in an expensive apartment on some other planet," Cassian had told her while she'd worked on Paila's docs._

_Jyn had raised a brow. "Has he? Got a girl in every spaceport?" It would make sense - Cassian does have a great number of contacts spread out around the galaxy. And while she's fairly certain he's not done any kind of soft ops since they've met, she knows personally how people sometimes want to be... persuaded._

_But apparently not. His eyes had widened almost comically. "Wh-what kind of? The hell? We don't… no."_

_"I mean, spycraft isn't exactly clean cut."_

_Cassian had stared at her for a long moment before reaching for her hand. "Jyn, you never… Saw never had you... Right?"_

_"No! Of course not, I was too young. And if I had been older, he had a bit of a double standard when it came to me." She'd smiled faintly. "Saw nearly threw Codo out the airlock when he tried to kiss me. But yeah, some of the adults had those kinds of missions. Rarely, I mean the Partisans were more interested in blowing Imps to bits than investigation."_

_"Well that's not how we work. Though we might airlock predators," he adds._

_Jyn had bitten her lip before asking for another piece of himself. "Does Cassian Andor have anyone in any port?"_

_He could have deflected, made her question about his informants. But he'd looked at her and shaken his head. "Not in a while, no," he had said and squeezed her hand._

Jyn brings the glass to her lips and shakes off the memory. A damn fool thing to do, mooning over her partner while on a mission! 

"Life Day is coming up, my dear," he says as she finishes her wine. "Is there anything in particular you're after?" 

"Besides a penthouse in Theed? Or oh, a chateau in the lake country!"

Cassian laughs and flags over a waiter droid. "A Whyren's neat for me and a creme d'infame for the lady." The droid whizzes off as Jyn barely stops herself from making a face. Cassian knows that she isn't a wine drinker, but Paila is. And creme d'infame is sweet, a plum wine. She'd much rather have the whiskey.

She pretends to consider Rhys's question, tries to think up something that Cassian will find funny. 

"I'd like a yacht. Nothing too fancy."

"A yacht." Cassian's lips twitch. "That's all?"

"And maybe some diamonds."

The droid wheels over with their drinks. "Very reasonable of you, Miss Thorne," he says. "Do you know what I would like for Life Day?"

Jyn knows he is just playing his part. She can't stop herself from thinking of another conversation on another planet.

_"What do you want for Life Day?" she asks to distract him._

_He huffs. "My blaster."_

_"Ah well, that's too bad. I can filch you one from the quartermaster."_

_"You stole the first one!" Cassian grins even as he shakes his head. "Next year, Jyn. Next year."_

She drinks her wine - and nearly gags on it. Rhys would not want a blaster, he would see no need. A man like Rhys Cardell would not feel unsafe without seven weapons hidden on his person. 

A Relox chrono, another speeder, a holiday on Mon Cala. The beaches wouldn't turn his stomach. He'd probably want his lover stretched out beside him in the sand, sunskissed and pliant. 

She might not know what _exactly_ a man like Cassian Andor wants, but she's sure it isn't that.

Before she has a chance to answer, a blur of red and gold falls onto the table in between them, knocking over Jyn's wine into her lap but somehow missing the whiskey. 

"Oh gods, I am so sorry, I ju-just, Rhys Cardell?" 

Ah, the contact. The woman, a gorgeous redhead with deep skin, glittering in a golden shift dress, stands up with the help of her escort, a face she recognizes immediately.

Talon Karrde, the information-dealing kingpin. Oh _shavit._

"Oh dear I am such a klutz! Here let me help you, honey." The contact (or setup or whoever the kriff this woman is) grabs a napkin from the table and starts mopping up the mess she's made of Jyn's cape. Well, Leia's friend Winter's cape. Jyn makes sure that the woman sees her place her hand on her blaster and meets dark green eyes through red-gold curls. 

Jyn feels the other woman press something into a pocket before she stands back up.

Cassian stands. "Celina! Celina Marniss," he exclaims. "Lovely as ever!" A few patrons had turned in their direction, but now that it's clear the commotion isn't going to end with blasters drawn (Jyn isn't so sure about that) they've lost interest.

"Let me not be rude," Celina Marniss says. "This must be your lovely wife!"

Cassian pauses for just a sliver of a moment. "No, actually, this is Paila Thorne, my personal assistant," he says, and Jyn curses whoever kriffed up Celina's intel. Confusion barely flashes across Celina's face before she recovers.

"Oh dear, my mistake! I do say I've made a right fool of myself! Pleased to meet you, Paila. May I call you Paila?" Celina reaches out to her. Jyn thinks she's going to shake her hand but instead the other woman pulls her out of the booth and into a hug. "A friend of Rhys Cardell's is a friend of mine!"

"Miss Marniss tends to forget herself when she's had Tarisian ale," says the man behind her. Talon Karrde.

Who knows her because he'd hired her for a job. Well, Liana Hallik, but still. Same face, even with the green hair and contacts.

"Oh, silly me," Marniss giggles. "This is my business partner, Talon Karrde. He owns one of the largest multi-system data communications security conglomerates in the galaxy." Jyn almost snorts as the men shake hands. That's certainly one way of putting it. 

Cassian nudges her shoulder when he pulls back and Jyn remembers that she should try to look friendly. In fact, a man with the power like Karrde would probably appeal to Paila Cardell far too much. She sticks out a hand, and he doesn't press his lips to her glove like she'd assumed he would. Instead he shakes her hand just as he'd done with Cassian. Proper, sincere. 

He _has_ to remember her.

"Rhys is an old university friend. He's the one who set me up with Ashla when we did an exchange year on Lothal together." Marniss flashes a radiant smile. "We're expecting, by the way! Ashla's due in three standard months." she says to Cassian. 

"That's fantastic! I thought you two would work out."

"Still sure you don't want to make a go of it? We're looking for a third."

Cassian throws back a hearty laugh. Jyn crosses her arms like Paila would, huffs a bit. "You were always too much for me, Cel."

"Celina, we should leave your friend and his... personal assistant to their evening. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Cardell," Karrde says. He looks at Jyn and has the nerve to _wink_ at her. "Miss Thorne."

"Comm me, darling!" Marniss says, kissing both their cheeks.

Jyn appreciates Marniss giving them an easy exit as she whines about needing to change out of her stained frock, even if the walk back is cold and uncomfortable. Apart from the mix up with Rhys and Paila's relationship, and of course bringing Talon kriffing Karrde along, Jyn thinks that their mission has gone off rather well. 

They are safely in hyperspace when Jyn finds Cassian and Kay in the cockpit. 

"Oh, I had hoped you'd left her behind," the droid snarks.

"Kay," Cassian warns, but Jyn just rests her hands on his shoulders and squeezes before nodding her head towards the cabin.

"He's kidding," she says, feeling weirdly light.

"I am not."

Jyn rolls her eyes as Cassian follows her out of the cockpit and into the hold. "Have you met her before?"

"Who?"

"Celina Marniss," she says, sitting down on the bench.

"No, but she's a Fulcrum."

Jyn's eyes widen. "Wait what? Really?"

Cassian folds his arms in his chest and leans back against the wall. "Yeah, she modified the code but it checks out." 

"And Talon Karrde? Is he a secret rebel spy?" She laughs. If Cassian is surprised that she knows whole Karrde is, he hides it well.l "If you say that Karrde is a Fulcrum I… actually won't be that shocked."

"No. But clearly he isn't opposed to working with us," Cassian adds. "That's why he was there. Think about what Senator Pamlo works on. Messaging, propaganda. She could use some help distributing it."

"So the message for Pamlo…"

He sits down beside her. "Was Talon Karrde showing up. Himself, not one of his people. Apart from some contact information, the data card Marniss gave you is just some slicing puzzles and games and things." He huffs and plants his head in his hands. "Maybe it's just a Life Day gift."

"I worked for him once."

Cassian nods. "I figured as much, the way you spooked."

Jyn raised a brow. "Around five months or so before I got arrested. He's lucky I didn't shoot him and Marniss."

"Small galaxy." He frowns. "One thing that hasn't stop bothering me is-"

"The wife thing."

"Exactly! It's unlike her handler to mess things up that much."

Jyn blinks. "Draven kriffs up all the time."

Cassian shakes his head. "Not all the time, Jyn. You're a little biased. And anyway, not all of us report to him."

Jyn shrugs. "I mean, it's not that big of a deal. I would play your wife if… um. Well, anyway." His eyes snap to hers, and he's wary but not like before. The look on his face is like -

She just needs to -

"What do you want for Life Day?" she asks. "Not one of those Relox chronos with the diamonds."

"No," Cassian furrows his brow but his eyes soften. "Bit tacky. But we do have one or two in storage for ops."

"Not a beach holiday on Mon Cala."

He shakes his head, lips quirking up. "No," he agrees. "I'd need a tranquilizer. And I feel like we travel enough as it is."

"Not a new speeder."

"The Rebellion has plenty," he says, his voice quiet.

Jyn nods, leans in a bit. "Have you ever seen those adverts on the HoloNet? I forget what they're for. Something posh and useless I'm sure. 'What to get the sentient who has everything?'"

Cassian bites his lip. "Jyn," he sighs. "It's alright."

 _Saw’s words echo in her head._ So what is it that you want, Jyn?

_Before she can even think of an answer, Cassian pulls back. “Alright.” He looks at the sky. “It’s alright.”_

She shakes her head and jumps up. "Except it _isn't_ alright. It might never be alright. I've got avoidance issues, you're too self-sacrificing. And I thought that if I just waited a bit, I would be able to," she gasps and clenches her fists. "To love you without being terrified to lose you. But maybe that's just part of it. Not wanting to see it end. I never want to see the end of you, Cassian. I'll always want to learn something more about you, or to make you laugh with Baze and the others. 

"When you asked me last year, what I wanted for Life Day, I hadn't celebrated since before Saw. The others did their traditions and rituals and things, but he and I… well, we didn't like to think about it. So giving gifts, receiving anything. I'd just gotten a family and a home. You gave me so much."

"You've been so good to me, waiting for me to be ready for us. You have no idea what that's meant to me Cass!" She laughs, so full of relief; she feels like she'll never stop. "I don't think I'll ever fully be ready, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't try."

Cassian stares at her for a long moment before launching off of the bench, standing so close to her. He grins down at her, wiping at her eyes like the day before. "I would love you to try," he says. "And gods Jyn, when you smile like this, I - please may I kiss you?"

Jyn grabs his collar - _Cassian's_ shirt, one she's seen so many times, worn and soft, so unlike what he'd worn as Rhys Cardell - and pulls him down to her for a kiss. He's a quick learner, wastes no time in wrapping his hands around her waist, and it's a little hard to kiss when she feels like smiling, full to bursting. She throws an arm around his neck and presses closer, laughs when he makes this gorgeous sound in his throat as her other hand rakes through his hair, moans when he presses her into the wall, crowding into her space, sighs when he pulls his lips away from hers and finds her cheek, her jaw, her neck. She swears under her breath and pulls him back to her lips, licks at the seam of his mouth, wants him, wants him, wants him.

He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against hers. Jyn is pleased to see him slightly winded.

"Kay," he says, voice hoarse.

"Oh kriff. _Kay._ " He snorts, but it isn't long before he starts mouthing at her neck. She certainly isn't discouraging him, the way her hands are wandering. "The quartermaster likes you, right?" she asks, biting her lip to hold back another moan. He hums against her skin. She will never live it down if his droid walks in on them because _she_ got too noisy. "Well, ask them for a room with a double."

/ /

**FEST - 7 ABY**

"I never got you that blaster," Jyn pants as she gazes up at the ceiling. Her hand rubs absently at her sweaty collarbone. She turns onto her side and grins at the man beside her. "Cassian?"

He's lying on his stomach, face pressed into his pillow which muffles his noncommittal sound. She notes with some satisfaction that she's made a mess of his hair. Jyn can't help but cuddle up to him, pressing into his side and combing her fingers through his bedhead. She presses her lips to the hot skin of his back and then leans up to nip at his earlobe. "I was saying about that blaster."

"Mmm." He turns his head to her look at her. "You've given me other blasters."

"But not that one."

He chuckles. "It's out of production. How are you gonna even get it?"

Cassian rolls onto his side and kisses her. She could probably go again, but she knows he's had a long week on Coruscant. "I have my ways."

He raises a brow. "You mean Karrde and Mara."

"Mostly Mara." 

He nods. "Jedi."

Jyn kisses him. "Exactly. She knows things."

He wraps an arm around her. "Alright," her husband murmurs. "If you want."

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> A few notes:
> 
> 1\. Celina Marniss was one of Mara Jade's pseudonyms from Legends. In this universe she is not the Emperor's Hand... obviously. Her Fulcrum handler is, of course, Ahsoka Tano. Maybe Ahsoka finds her as a child or something, idk. Whatever the case, she's a badass spy for the Rebels now. I wanted to fit in a scene that would explain why she thinks Cassian and Jyn are married. In Legends canon Mara is very gifted at communicating through the Force. I figured that if she is untrained will all that raw power, she might pick up on ~whispers in the force aka plot contrivances lol. Maybe she hears that they will one day be married and confuses it with their covers. Idk.
> 
> 2\. I wanted to set more of this on Fest and I might come back and write some more, but for now Fest gets a cameo. I actually wrote up a whole political history of Fest, its roots as a colony of Alderaan as is a popular headcanon, etc. But it was... a little too special interest.
> 
> 3\. I hope the way I interpreted the prompt makes sense!
> 
> 4\. I forgot to say. I saw @skitzofreak mention using shakespearean insults for huttese I think. Definitely inspirational shit.


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